Free Back in Service by Rosanna Challis Page B

hair, so thick and glossy…’ She bent over and pressed a handful to her cheeks, her eyes closed and her expression blissful.
    Watching her in the glass, Hetty felt a shock of excitement that was strangely erotic. ‘Err… Jane, dear, shall we get started?’
    Jane snapped out of her strange sensual reverie with an embarrassed, ‘Oh yes, Miss Hetty,’ as she straightened up. ‘Should I begin with the brush?’
    ‘I used to give Lady Alice a hundred strokes to start with.’
    Once her hair had been brushed to gleaming perfection, she instructed Jane in the art of curling and pinning, combing and plaiting. The touch of the girl’s soft fingers, which sometimes brushed against her ears or the nape of her neck, sent shivers of unaccustomed delight down her spine. She had not felt so sensually aroused since the early days of Leo’s courtship. Then a covert glance in the mirror showed her Jane had fallen into that oddly blissful trance again caressing her hair. The room was silent save for the gentle ticking of the carriage clock on the bedside table, and Hetty felt an almost unbearable tension coiling inside her. She wanted to make small talk, to ease the powerful feelings hovering below the surface of her restrained behaviour, yet she hesitated to break the spell. The girl’s gentle touch was making her breasts swell and her nipples strain against the light constraint of her camisole. She shifted her thighs restlessly, and became aware of the throbbing button of flesh nestled in the nook between them above the warm moisture of her pussy. Her desire was growing by the second and becoming almost unbearable, yet she was ashamed to reveal how she felt, and even more afraid of doing anything to ease her frustration. If Jane rebuffed her advances, if she was shocked and disgusted, she would go tattling to Lady Alice and then everyone would learn Hetty’s shameful secret, including Leo and Sir Victor. The consequences would be utterly disastrous. Therefore, she kept a tight rein on her feelings and maintained an air of propriety. In any case, how could she set herself up as Jane’s protector against the wicked Sir Victor if she subjected her to similar improprieties herself? It was unthinkable. She must preserve a correct distance between them at all times…
    ‘There, Miss Hetty, what do you think?’ Jane finally broke the awkward silence. She lifted the ebony hand mirror lying on the dressing table and showed Hetty her handiwork.
    ‘Very good, Jane, you have pleated it beautifully and set the combs well.’
    ‘But your hair is so easy to work with, not like Lady Alice’s. Hers is so thin and dry.’
    ‘Have you made up any of her favourite pomade?’
    ‘No, I did not know the recipe, Miss Hetty. There is still a little left in the pot.’
    ‘Show me.’
    She opened a drawer and drew out a small earthenware pot Hetty recognised as the one she had filled with pomade when she was last at Longton. There was only a tiny smear left in the bottom.
    ‘Good gracious, Jane, you are not still using this?’ She held it up to her nose. ‘Ugh! It is far from fresh and should have been thrown away ages ago. Come, let us go to the stillroom and make up a new batch. You will find her ladyship’s hair much easier to handle if you use some fresh pomade.’
    As they neared the stillroom, their footsteps echoing on the flagstones, Hetty felt her heart fluttering with apprehension. She knew now the place continued to be a favourite haunt of Sir Victor’s, even in his wheelchair, and of the fearsome Nanny Baines as well. They both seemed to possess a kind of sixth sense about when the room was occupied by a young, vulnerable woman.
    She closed the door behind them and settled down to show Jane how to make the kind of scented hair cream Lady Alice preferred. As time passed, and no one appeared to disturb them, they were lulled into a sense of false security heating up herbal essences on the little stove with purified lard and olive